


This One Time in Atara

by AthenaGC94



Category: My Time At Portia (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27458962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaGC94/pseuds/AthenaGC94
Summary: Have you ever wondered what kind of shenanigans Gust and Albert got into while they lived in Atara? Was Albert always a womanizer? Was Gust always a stick in the mud?Well, I have. And yes, probably, to those other two questions. Here's a series of one-shots highlighting different stories that Gust and Albert tell their friends now that they're settled down and "functioning" adults living in Portia.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	This One Time in Atara

“Oh and this one time back in Atara,” Albert managed around a boisterous laugh, “Gust convinced the local Civil Corps members doing their rounds to join us for a game of darts. We made a little competition out of it to see who could wrack up the most points.” He took a sip of his hard soda and stifled another chuckle. “Well, we just about won the clothes off their backs. Though that might have been Gust’s goal from the get go. The one with the wing tattoo across his right shoulder was quite the looker. I think you got his number in the end, didn’t you?” 

He winked at Gust as he pulled Sonia a little closer into the crook of his arm and planted a kiss on her cheek, then on her mouth. Gust grimaced at the overt display of affection. Did he have no shame? He turned away from them and traced the intricate basket weave pattern of the Round Table’s wallpaper. Beside him, Piper squeezed his hand sympathetically. It was only a minor consolation considering their present company.

Albert continued in blissful ignorance, “That was shortly after we met, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard the story of how you two met,” Piper said as she took a sip of her red tea. 

“Is it a good one?” Sonia added as she twirled a strand of dark hair around her finger.

Gust rolled his eyes. “That depends on your definition of a good story.” He ran his thumb back and forth over the bridge of her knuckles. How did Piper convince him to go on a double date with these two again? They were practically on top of each other and right in front of him and his dinner. “It’s rather depraved if you ask me.” He cut the man across from him with a pointed glare. “Much like Albert and his effect on women.”

Albert gave him a wounded look. “Low blow, I think it’s a pretty great story,” he said, “Gust here really helped me out of a tight spot. How could I not want to be best mates with him after what happened.”

Piper arched an eyebrow at Gust. “It’s not that spectacular,” he insisted with a languid swipe of his free hand, “Albert was being a fool and I didn’t want to get caught up in his shenanigans. That’s all. End of story.”

Piper snorted and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. He ducked his head to hide the heat burning at his cheeks. She turned back to Albert and said, “Well, now I have to know. What did he do?”

“Well,” Albert said as he shifted forward in his seat. A feline smile curved his lips that made Gust’s skin crawl. “All good stories start with a pretty...”

“It started with a sketch.” 

All eyes turned to Gust in surprise. Even he was mildly surprised by his interjection. He planned to sit back and roll his eyes at Albert’s dramatic retelling, like he usually did, but a small part of him hated his side of the story. The last thing he wanted was to subject Piper to his bullshit. He cleared his throat and took a sip of his vodka and apricot juice. 

“It started with a sketch,” he said a little more firmly, “and a bad case of creative block…”

☼☼☼☼☼☼

Gust settled back in his seat and regarded the sketch in front of him. He spent the last two hours outlining a simple two-story structure with crow stepped gables. He had yet to settle on where he wanted to place the windows. Should he go with a symmetrical design? Or make things interesting and only include windows on one side of the building? Which would Vera choose? He nibbled thoughtfully on the end of his pencil as he traced and retraced the lines with his eyes.

The answer was simple, wasn’t it? She’d say his design was shit and tear it in half.

So, he did just that. He ripped the sheet off his drafting table and tore it right down the middle. The shreds of paper landed at his feet, joining the rest of his discarded designs. He growled and combed his fingers irritably through his hair. Shit. All his designs were absolute shit. He knew it. Vera knew it. Everyone knew how much of a failure he was. At this rate, he’d never become one of the great architects of his time. 

Maybe he should cut his losses and go home with his tail between his legs.

He wrinkled his nose at the prospect. He would never stoop so low. Portia was in the past and he wanted to move forward. He refused to go back and waste away in that backwater town. He would make it as a great architect, even if it killed him. Vera took him on as an apprentice despite the fact that he had _a personality blander than stale bread dipped in water_ ー her words not his. So, she had to have seen some potential in him, right?

He huffed and reached for the sketchbook. He just had to keep working at it. He wouldn’t give up, not until his dreams became a reality. He’d show everyone. He flipped to a blank page and began outlining a new design. He only got a few short strokes in before ripping it out and tossing it to the side.

Then started again. Then again. And again…

Shit. Shit. And more shit. Why couldn’t he get it right?

He sighed and glanced around his bedroom. At the wads of paper littering his floor and the half-finished designs tacked up on the walls, so he couldn’t see the moldy wallpaper beneath. They mocked him. He could hear their whispers at the back of his mind, telling him he’d never be good enough. He snarled and swiped his shoulder-length hair into a low ponytail. 

He needed a change of scenery and maybe some fresh air, but he had no desire to actually leave his dorm. His gaze fell to his window and the streaked panes of glass that hadn’t seen a rag in over a year. He could see the vague outline of the Atara skyline. He fell in love with all the different buildings that made up this fine city. It was one of the reasons he sought out Vera in the first place. He wanted to make his mark on this city with a design of his own.

He straightened in his seat as an idea struck him. Maybe he could… if he was careful, there wouldn’t be any harm in it, right? The Civil Corps couldn’t arrest him if he was just hanging out on a window ledge. He glanced down at the half-hearted attempt at a new design in his lap, then back to the window. 

Fuck it.

He stood and pushed the window open. Its rusted hinges whined in protest, but it opened just wide enough for him to shimmy out onto the lip of stone that jutted out just far enough so he could sit comfortably. He settled back against the relief carved trim that decorated his window and turned to a new page of his sketchbook. 

He admired the skyline with a faint smile, then took a moment to watch the people mill about in the streets below. The sweet smell of coffee and black tea wafted from the café below and curled up and around him like a blanket that warmed him to his core, despite the crisp autumn air outside. He hummed contentedly.

He loved this city. He never wanted to leave.

He used the buildings in front of him as inspiration as he began to sketch a new design. Something a little more angular that used a lot of geometric shapes and windows. It wasn’t like anything he’d designed before now, but the longer he stared at it, the more he liked it. It was something new. It was something innovative. He only hoped Vera would feel the same. He worked until the sky turned a lovely shade of pink and bled into the faintest of light purple. The color reminded him of the heather plants that grew in the gardens outside Vera’s home. His fingers itched to mix a paint color that matched it, but he resisted that urge. He needed to keep his mind focused on architecture. Painting for pleasure could wait until he made a name for himself.

A window slammed open and jolted him from his thoughts. He almost lost his grip on his sketchbook entirely, but managed to clutch it to his chest before it toppled over the edge. His lip curled in disgust as he turned to glare at the source of the commotion. A young man with dark hair, clad only in a pair of plaid underpants and long grey socks, scurried out onto the ledge and the window slammed shut behind him as soon as he cleared it.

“Come on, Moira, you don’t have to do this,” he drawled with a lilting accent as he rapped his knuckles on the glass, “I don’t care if you have a boyfriend. In fact, he’s welcome to join in the fun. I’m flexible and I _know_ you are.”

Moira didn’t deign to respond and the young man’s shoulders slumped as he pouted and turned away from the window. He noticed Gust immediately and blinked at him owlishly. Gust mirrored his surprise, still clutching his pad protectively to his chest. He glanced down at his bare chest and then the tent in his pants. The heat burned at the tips of his ears as he stared pointedly at his face. The young man grinned at him fiendishly.

“Just another Wednesday, am I right, mate?”

Gust furrowed his brow at him. He didn’t even know how to respond to that. A normal Wednesday for him involved take out from the noodle vendor that set up shop outside his building and banging his head against the wall until inspiration finally struck him. And when inspiration failed, he drowned his sorrows with a few shots of vodka. If this was a regular Wednesday, he didn’t even want to consider what Saturday looked like for this man.

“Uh, actually, I…”

The man sidled down the ledge until he settled down beside him. He reeked of sex. Gust wrinkled his nose and leaned away from him. “”I live two floors down from you, but I was enjoying Moriaー you’ve met Moira, right? She’s this pretty young thing with big brown eyes and a mouth always painted red as sin. Anyway, I was enjoying her company this evening and...” 

He paused and the corners of his mouth dipped into a frown. “Or at least I was until her boyfriend returned home early from class. Then she freaked out and suddenly developed morals or whatever.” He threw his whole body into the eye roll. “Now here we are, just two blokes sitting on the ledge of their building, shooting the shit.” He kicked his legs absently as he offered him a hand, “the name’s Albert by the way. Pleasure to meet you.”

Gust stared at his outstretched hand, utterly mystified by the entire situation. How… How was he supposed to proceed? Did he pretend this man wasn't just kicked out of a woman's dorm because she was cheating on her boyfriend? Was he supposed to ignore his bare chest and the tent that refused to go away in his pants? Was it too late to just ignore him? Probably. He squinted at him, but didn’t take his hand. “Gust.” He turned back to his sketchbook and continued, “now please leave me alone.”

Albert let his hand fall to his side. “Well Gust, you see, I would, but as you can see I’m currently on the side of a building wearing nothing but my underthings,” he snorted, “so, you’re stuck with me until Moira let’s me back in or you let me in.” He inclined his head towards Gust and hummed thoughtfully. “So, the ball’s in your court, mate.”

He went stock still at the mere suggestion. He wanted to use his window to get out of this? Never, not in a million years. He had no reason to help this sexual deviant escape the consequences of his poor choices. “Fuck off,” he mumbled as he dragged his pencil across the page, “I don’t have to help you.”

Albert hummed. “Very true, you don’t,” he said with a sigh, “I guess that means I have to wait with you and go into great detail about the various things Moira and I were doing before her boyfriend got here. Let’s see there was this one position where Iー”

Gust cut him with a glare. “If I let you use my window, will you promise never to speak to me again?”

Albert made a crisscross motion over his chest. “Cross my heart,” he said with a wide grin, “you’ll never have to see me again after this.” He winked. “Unless you like what you see. Like I was saying before, I’m flexible.” 

Gust gave him another once over. He wasn’t unattractive, quite the opposite. He had a charming smile that showed off a shallow divot on his right cheek. His dark hair was tousled from the soft breeze and, he had to assume, the sex he just had. Not normally his type, but Gust didn’t see too much action these days. But he wouldn’t give this bastard the satisfaction of knowing he considered his offer for a moment.

He glowered at him and said, “Just get inside.”

Albert beamed and, together, they crawled back through the window and into his bedroom. Once his feet were safely planted on the ground, Gust turned and glared at the half-dressed heathen. He stood in the middle of his bedroom, hands planted firmly on his hips as he regarded the sketches on his walls with mild intrigue. His heart leapt into his throat.

Gust wanted to die. He forgot about all his shitty designs on the walls. He resisted the urge to jump in front of him and wave his arms wildly to distract him from his shame.

“Alright,” his voice cracked on the panic mounting in his chest, “you’re inside, now leave.”

Albert ignored him and peered more closely at the design hanging over his bed. An intricate layout for a botanical garden he designed when he first vied for Vera’s mentorship several years prior. It was the first and only design she ever complimented. And by complimenting, he meant an almost smile and a _‘it’s alright’_ , which was high praise coming from someone heartless and stone-cold like her.

“This is pretty good, more than good actually,” he noted with an appreciative tilt of his head, “are you an architect too?”

Gust blinked. “Uh, yes, I’m trying to be?” His brow furrowed at him. “Wait. Too? Are you an architect?”

He buzzed his lips and took a step back. “Construction management, actually,” he drawled with a wave of his hand, “but I’ve met my fair share of architects while tailing my mentor across the Free Cities. None of their designs look like these though. You’re pretty good.”

“Oh.” He scratched sheepishly at the nape of his neck. He turned and busied himself with grabbing a shirt and sweatpants from his dresser. “I’m alright, I guess,” he said as he tossed the clothes at Albert, “now get dressed, you look utterly ridiculous sporting around in nothing but your underwear.”

“Don’t be modest,” Albert said as he tugged the shirt over his head, “I know talent when I see it. I’d throw my hat in your ring if you wanted to make a living out of it.”

“Well, I’d need to get certified first,” Gust grumbled under his breath, “and who knows when my master will allow that. She hates my work.”

Albert nodded. “Well, when it happens, you should come find me,” he said as he shoved his hands in the pockets of Gust’s sweatpants. The soft grey fabric pooled around his feet, considering he stood at least a head shorter than him. “We’ll make a living of it, mate.”

Gust wrinkled his nose and said, “You agreed to never speak to me again if I helped you.”

He pursed his lips. “I did, didn’t I?” He shrugged and made his way towards the door, “well then, thanks for your help. As promised, I’ll never seek you out again.” He paused, hand on the doorknob and glanced back at him. “But if you seek me out again, I won’t turn you away. So, don’t be a stranger.”

Gust clucked his tongue. “Just leave.”

“You got it, mate,” he said, “thanks again.” 

And with that, he disappeared through the door and Gust was alone again. He didn’t move right away. Instead, he glanced at the design above his bed, then the one next to it, and then the next, until he’d surveyed the whole room. Albert liked his work. Albert thought he had what it took to be one of the greats. Knowing someone felt that way, even if that someone was a half-dressed imbecile, was… oddly inspiring?

He turned back to his half finished sketch and smiled to himself. The wells of inspiration flowed freely through his veins and he already had a few ideas swirling around at the back of his mind. 

He was convinced Vera would love them.

☼☼☼☼☼☼

“And that’s how Albert and I met,” Gust concluded with an indignant sniff, “see, he’s a depraved sexual deviant who drags me into his shenanigans.”

“Wait,” Albert started as he leaned forward in his seat, “you _actually_ considered my offer to sleep with me?”

Gust scowled. Was that all he took from that story? Sexual deviant, indeed. He settled back in his seat and shrugged. “A pretty face is a pretty face, but then you opened your mouth and I quickly reconsidered your offer.” He leveled him with a glare. “I think I made a good call in the end.”

“I didn’t want you anyway,” Albert insisted as he toyed with the ends of Sonia’s hair, “you’re too grumpy for my tastes.”

“That’s a pretty cute story actually,” Piper teased. She elbowed Gust in the ribs and chuckled. He made a face, but it softened when Piper smiled up at him. He wrapped an arm around her and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. “It’s good to see you’ve always been a stick in the mud and that wasn’t a new development.”

“That’s not true,” Albert exclaimed, “Gust was a very charming individual when he wanted to be. Why, I remember this one time in Atara…”

**Author's Note:**

> A story where I'm not living out my dreams to romance Gust? Me? No. It can't be. Well, it's true. I just really want to write about college-age Gust and Albert. And this idea came to me while I was laying in bed the other night. So please, enjoy. I plan on adding more to this as ideas come to me. For more My Time at Portia content check me out on tumblr: robingoodfellow94.tumblr.com


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